Lay a Claim on My Heart
by Sabpie
Summary: When the two personalities of the brash, egotistical Aidou and the cool, quiet Yori meet and clash, what could possibly go wrong? Apparently, everything.
1. Prologue

So, this is my first piece of Vampire Knight fanfiction and only my second fanfic yet. Oh, and this is my first multi-chapter story...ever. Quite sad, yes, I know -_- Here's to hoping I can see it through to its end! *Beta thinks you can, he!

So anyways, I absolutely love this couple and just _had_ to write a story about the two of them. This is just a short dual prologue from Yori and Aidou's perspectives. Though the prologue is formatted this way, I have more of a...third person-omniscient POV for the actually story part :D

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Vampire Knight. That goes to Matsuri Hino. However, I do own this particular fanfic, so I still have something ^~^

So, enjoy, and hope you review!

EDIT//: I, now, have a fantastic (and thankfully very patient) Beta who completely took this prologue and actually made it WONDERFUL (homygawd D8, what blasphemy is this??) And I really have to thank her for taking the time and doing such an amazing job of taking my muck writing and turning it into something...100000+ x better! So, if you have already read this...read it again and admire MarginalMary's handiwork. Do it. Do it NAOW D8

*beta thinks, "Stop it!…You're gonna make me blush."

* * *

She hated him.

Well, "hate" was a heavy-handed and ubiquitous word, but she would be lying if she smiled sweetly and said she approved of the way he acted at times – or acted at any time. She supposed that there were three main reasons for her dislike, each more compounding than the previous, and each played an essential role in what he did to vex her.

Firstly and most obviously was his manner of parading through life as if he owned every piece of land on which he set his foot and so reigned supreme over other people in its general vicinity. With his head held so loftily and that cocky grin always in place, he seemed to invest an undue amount of pride in his every step.

Everyday, those grand, gothic gates leading to the mysterious Moon Dorm creaked open, and everyday he was there to greet them, aiming that invisible gun of his and winking, smiling, waving, and flirting his fangirls into a nauseating frenzy of hysteria. And, his fans were far from few. Much to her chagrin, he basically included the entire female populace of the Day Class in imaginary target practice. On the days she accompanied her friend the prefect to exchange-of-classes duties in the evening, Yori would be there, silent and virtually invisible. Either beside Yuuki, who was constantly flinching and bodily jostled, or observing from the back and out of the way of the core craziness, Yori watched his scene unfold. But despite regular exposure to his antics, she still winced from the girlish squeals and amorous shrieks every time.

He had such an ostentatious, flippant, irritating, overbearing attitude, ah! She could not quite imagine the motivations of anyone who would want to throw himself or herself at his prancing, posing, I-hover-above-the-ground-because-my-nose-is-stuck-up-in-the-clouds feet.

Oh sure, he was good looking – of course, she could not deny that fact. One would have to be blind not to see how enticingly handsome he was. So potent was the extent of his charisma, perhaps she would even go as far as to say the blind would somehow be able to ascertain his brilliance. There was his tousled, golden hair that bounced, perfectly coiffed, atop of his head, giving off the ruggedly handsome, boyish impression of having just hopped out of bed. Also, there were his salient eyes, so blue, icy, and piercing. In them glowed an enigmatic power that caused even the most casual viewer to experience disturbing shivers of both delight and apprehension. It was no secret that he came from an affluent family – something which only heightened his allure and her classmates' overzealous delusions of ballroom dancing, bountiful gifts, unparalleled attentions, and declarations of eternal love. Whether it was his enthralling good looks, his family's opulent wealth, or both that fueled the infatuation of the Day class girls, Yori didn't really care to know. But to cheer their little heads off constantly and swoon about theatrically every time he happened to be near really was too much. To her, his image and the fantasy it inspired all seemed a weak platform on which to like someone…because it was.

Secondly and most disdainfully, his cruel way of treating Cross Yuuki, her best friend and roommate, really burned Yori's last nerve.

When first, Yori stepped unceremoniously onto the grounds of Cross Academy to attend junior high, no one had really cared to acknowledge or include her – not that she had any particular ambitions to be popular. By nature, Yori was a quiet person and rarely displayed much emotion. She had never been complemented for being pretty nor had she ever been rebuked for being ugly. She was modestly praised for good deeds and achievements, but Yori had never been archly coddled or vociferously lauded. Mostly, Yori had simply sat there, silent-like and almost unchanging with a placid expression that rarely faltered.

Nobody wanted a doll for a friend.

Well, that's what she had thought, until Yuuki came along. That first day, the sparkle-eyed girl plopped down in the seat beside Yori, nearly bouncing her head ajar from utter excitement. Despite Yori's initial emotionless exterior, Yuuki still asked for her opinions and listened to her in conversation. Yuuki had been surprisingly intent and focused on what Yori had to say – a quality in others that was fairly foreign to Yori because people had rarely solicited her thoughts on anything at all.

Even with Yuuki's bubbly and artless personality that seemed to bandy about frolicking around Yori's stoic head, Yori had found herself opening up effortlessly and being taken in by Yuuki's offer of true and steadfast friendship. Later that day, a rather fortuitous coincidence had been discovered. Their fledgling friendship, built upon the virgin grounds of Yori's heart, would have the chance to grow as she and Yuuki were to be roommates for the duration of their enrollment at Cross Academy. Be it luck or fate, Yori could not know, but of one thing she was absolutely certain: unintended, Yuuki had claimed a place for herself in Yori's life, and that place would be forever cherished ground.

And so, with Yuuki being one of the first and few friends she had the genuine and unexpected pleasure of having, Yori obviously wanted the best for her chocolate-haired companion and to make sure that no harm came to her.

But, the pretty-eyed boy just had to make that difficult. Yes, Yori was not blind to his behavior. She had noted all his various attempts to make her dear friend suffer the wrath of his fangirling mob. Honestly, he employed such a superficial and malicious technique to annoy Yuuki; he had others, his salivating worshipers, do his dirty work. More alarming than the malicious glares, bumps, and bruises Yuuki received for her efforts and at his instigation, Yori could not understand why he chose to trouble Yuuki so. The majority of the girls already despised the prefect for keeping them away from their beloved Night Class and unintentionally "hogging" the attentions of its otherworldly beauties. Then, for reasons unknown to Yori, the golden boy just had to hug Yuuki and taunt the unfortunate girl in front of her classmates. Usually his cruel game resulted in exhausting legwork and sleep deprivation for Yuuki as the poor, tiny thing tore crisscrossing paths through the academy grounds for hours on end in her attempt to escape the envious clutches of his vengeful, rabid female fans.

That was what Yori defined as an "abuse of power."

And of course, there was the third and most disturbing reason for Yori's aversion to him. How could she ever forget – there was also _that_!

Yes, Yori knew. She knew that the entire body of the Night Class was composed of vampires. Yes, vampires. It had not been a mystery too perplexing for her to solve. Was it such an outlandish and impossible conjecture that her rational mind had originally rejected and utterly denied it? Yes. But, nonetheless, Yori knew it to be the case as she had never been one to cling to an ingrained perception when a different truth was evident.

One night after waiting for her friend and while settled in bed with a thick book, Yori had glanced up in concern when Yuuki had dragged her much abused feet inside and slumped into her bed with a weak "Goodnight." Not five minutes later, Yuuki had begun muttering incoherently in her sleep about the darkness, the mysterious dorm president of the Night Class Kuran Kaname, and some slurred allusions to their sulky classmate and Yuuki's foster brother Kiryu Zero. As Yuuki tossed and turned, Yori had put down her book and tiptoed over to the other girl's bedside with the intent of waking Yuuki to assure her that the nightmare was only a dream.

Yori had raised a speculative eyebrow when she heard Yuuki complain meekly, "Aidou-senpai…stop…" She had paused to wonder what new offense the playboy committed to crop up in Yuuki's dreaming hours. Yuuki's hand that lay lazily beside the sleeping girl's cheek had a small wound on the heel of her palm, a brush burn accompanied by a double pinprick of sorts. Yori had dismissed this potential clue off, deciding that it was nothing.

It was only later into the night she had first heard that ill-fated and cursed word, mumbled through the somnolent lips of the one person Yori trusted in the entire academy.

_"__...Vampire."_

Of course, she had thought it rather odd that her friend would be thinking about made up monsters from storybooks while apparently in the midst of a nightmare inhabited by Kaname, Zero, and Aidou. But then, Yori had remembered a strange conversation between she and Yuuki only weeks prior. Yuuki had posed a nervous question, "Do you believe vampires exist?" And, then there were also those suspicious bandages that Yuuki would wear occasionally around her throat – like Yuuki was hiding a reoccurring wound. Her explanation – or lack thereof – had been shifty indeed.

So, the late nights patrolling, the inexplicable bandages, the intensified brooding of their silver-haired classmate, the queer inquiry as to Yori's belief in mythic beasts – and, now, twin punctures in Yuuki's palm and sleep talk about vampires. What did it all add up to? Bit-by-bit, ever so slowly, the pieces coalesced within Yori's reaching mind. She probably would not have discovered this new reality had Yuuki never come into her life, but as she already had, Yori was still forever grateful for the joy Yuuki had shined into her lonely world. Nevertheless, it was an unfortunate piece of information that shattered her immediate outlook on the natural order of the world.

However, as was indicative of Yori's steady disposition, she supposed that nothing else had really changed – girls still sighed delightedly at the mere mention of the Night Class, boring lectures were still given in every course while Yuuki slept right through them, and the rest of the world still spun on its axis at a 23 degree and some change angle.

Despite the reassuring normalcy of these facts, Yori could not quite work out why vampires were even on campus. She contented herself by concluding that, as her nightmarish schoolmates had not gone on any killing sprees to her knowledge, they were safe to be around – to a point, anyway.

Yori was still wary of the fact that vampires were nearby at all hours of the day and particularly night, and was constantly twitchy with anxiety when she thought of little Yuuki patrolling the grounds in darkness. But, Yori was careful to never reveal her worry to its fullest extent – which took negligible effort as Yuuki was not known for her powers of insight. Further, it did not escape Yori's attention that the beautiful boy all her classmates drooled over, the one who was forever pestering Yuuki, was one of those so-called bloodsucking monsters who only existed in fiction…supposedly. And that did not sit well with Yori at all. Thus, his being a vampire simply added to her dislike of the well seeming playboy.

Yet, she was not one to jump to conclusions or be unduly judgmental. Who was Yori to hate him for being what he was or what he appeared to be when she knew nothing of his true personality or core character? And _hate _was, after all, such a strong, overused word.

But, she _could_ disapprove of him.

Yes, Wakaba Sayori had due cause to dislike that Aidou Hanabusa – just a little bit.

* * *

_Damn her_.

That was not a particularly kind thought, he knew, but the whole situation was just a colossal enigma his genius mind could not quite unravel. Yet, it wasn't earth shattering. No one's life depended on it – heavens, no.

But, dammit, his lack of understanding was really annoying. The mere fact that he did not know the cause of a freak occurrence such as this compelled him to find out more. As was at the core of his inquisitive nature, he burned to flush out the mystery.

Was it even possible for someone like her to exist? Was it possible for a _human_ like her to exist? Well, he supposed the proof was undeniable – she was living. So he would begrudgingly concede that such an anomaly was _possible_. Regrettable and irrational as the prospect may have been, the scientist in him could not deny that she was, indeed, alive.

He admitted to himself that he was being somewhat egotistical, but, considering the substance on which he based his self-worth, he had the right. Damn it all. With the slight exceptions of Ruka, Seiren, and Rima, _never _in his considerable lifetime as a vampire noble had he met such a female being – human or inhuman – who could resist his impeccable charm and devilishly handsome looks. That fact aside, he judged his current plight to be _unfair._ She was a mere human, for goodness sake. She was _supposed_ to be just another simpleminded, weak, and easily manipulated human. Yet if that was the case, then could someone please tell him why this girl deviated from the status quo? Why was she different from all those other impressionable Day Class girls?

Granted, there was also Cross Yuuki, who challenged precedent and the laws of his attraction, but that incongruity could be explained away because he was rather vindictive to her – just a little bit cruel to her, maybe. But, he couldn't help but feel indignation towards the puny prefect; Kaname-sama deserved much better than a frail human girl, after all. She was beneath their pureblood president. Hell, Cross Yuuki was beneath the entire Night Class. In his opinion, he was just looking after the best interests of their supreme leader…while also venting his mild disdain and jealousy on the prefect. Annoying her was cathartic; he had read that it was unhealthy to keep his emotions pent up inside.

He just could not understand why a pureblood such as Kaname-sama would associate with such a worthless human. True, her blood, which for the official record he had never _truly_ tasted, was tantalizingly delicious, but that hardly justified any meaningful relationship between she and Kaname. She was an uncommonly yummy blood bank – period, the end. That should have been the end, but his pureblood king seemed to feel otherwise. Why, dammit!?

While on the subject of things-about-Kaname-sama-that-he-could-not-rationalize, Hanabusa could not comprehend why Kaname-sama would want peace between vampires and humans, either. And, to go to such great lengths to achieve it! To Hanabusa, the mission of the Night Class sounded like futile, idealistic crap. The eccentric fool, otherwise known as Headmaster of Cross Academy, was certainly reaching if he thought there was a big, happy hybrid family ending in the near future. The only reason any of the vampires in the Night Class were here was because Kaname-sama wished them to be here. Without his expressed desire to do otherwise, they would probably quit the blood tablets and this academy faster than anyone could say "Level E – look out!"

Regardless, Hanabusa could do no more than shake his head morosely when he thought of those two Kaname-related mysteries. However, this other discontinuity – the straight-faced human girl who rebelled against nature by rendering his attractive force ineffective – he would have to address that issue quickly lest Idol-senpai-resistance become contagious.

He had to wonder if she was mentally defective. Surely, that must be the cause, seeing as no girl in her right mind could look at him and feel nothing. What could have possibly gone wrong in the universe for a member of the opposite sex be immune to _him_? He, the genius playboy of the Night Class, could not wrap his head around this new and provocatively annoying discovery. If he were to judge it honestly, her indifference was offensive.

Upon entering Cross Academy, he had been completely self-possessed. As a prodigy and noble, coasting through classes would require 0 effort. He always got what he wanted with just a smile. The rare occasion when he did not could usually be rectified with the barest show of power. He never missed an opportunity; he never allowed a moment to be wasted; he never conceded defeat.

Charming, intelligent, powerful, and persistent– the combination of these attributes meant he could get any girl he wanted. That was what he had thought.

He would see the sharp-eyed, impassive girl from time to time. As the ornate, wooden double doors swung open day after day to announce the Night Class' arrival to the outside world, he noticed her sometimes standing beside the prefect or at other times waiting quietly for her friend in the background. That was not to say she was always present for his evening show. Sometimes, regrettably most times, she wasn't there at all. After three weeks of throwing all his best moves at her, he had simply given up. For the first time in his considerable relationship with the opposite sex, he was stonewalled. Being at a complete loss for what more he could do, he had resigned himself to failure number 1.

Hence, he had learned to turn away with barely a scoff in her general direction. He would simply continue forward, wooing his many fans – at least _they_ obeyed the cardinal rule of Aidou-girl interaction. In these moments, he contended that this girl was simply unworthy of his valuable time. _One_ girl? He could so easily pretend that this infinitesimal glitch in reality did not exist at all.

But it did – it most certainly did.

And was he affected?

Hell yes.

On days when his thoughts wandered in the midst of boredom, one could find him mightily pissed off. Just the simple fact that some little girl thought she could treat him that way – _him_ – the epitome of noble vampire, miracle genius, ladies' man, and right-hand of Kuran Kaname-sama. She treated him like...like...well, like someone undeserving of her notice!

It was the very definition of "blasphemy."

What was more: it irked him to no end that her emotionless eyes could appear so sharp. He preferred his acquaintances to fit into neat, pre-generalized categories. There were the dullards with the emotional spectrum of an amoeba and without a shred of good sense, and then there were the livelies who were colorful and bright. It was easier to predict and thus manipulate people when they were either black or white. But, sharp _and_ unfeeling? How tedious!

Her disregard of his finite divisions between people was merely another offense brought to bear by her defiance. How many was that now? She existed; she defied nature. She was indifferent; she defied the law of his gravity. She was flinty and impassive; she defied his guidelines of personal relations. And his pride was just a _bit_ bruised.

At moments when she waltzed into his innocently meandering thoughts, he had been overcome by the sudden and intense urge to blow up at every little, unrelated thing. When he had actually allowed himself to mull over the various occasions he had distinguished her bored expression standing out against a veritable sea of fawning, thrilled ones, Hanabusa required 24 hours to nurse his rent ego before anyone had been allowed within a 15-foot radius of him.

Even Ruka had refrained from annoying him when he was in one of "those moods." Yes, his classmates had begun playfully calling them that after he unintentionally tried to impale Ruka with a flying shard of ice. At one point during his episode, Hanabusa had come _that _close to accidentally freezing their pureblood dorm president's hand when he approached to find out what was wrong. Hanabusa was then faced with the terrifying prospect of a confused, amused, and slightly angry Kaname-sama. Being forced to, once again, balance a bucket atop his head for an entire day had done nothing to improve his state of mind. Refusing to talk about the source of his temper tantrums to preserve his reputation, he knew that everyone's patience with him was waning, and he could not blame any of them for it.

After mentally raging against fate and venting his frustrations physically in the form of an iced over room, he had regained his senses. Gradually driving himself insane for several weeks and finally relieving his tension and stress, he had just wanted to scoff at his own ludicrousness – as if he would care so much! She wasn't even _that_ pretty by his lofty standards – quite average to be honest.

Yet, the whole affair made him restless. She had meted out a ruthless beating to his ego without so much as a word of apology or even intent. What did it all mean? Maybe, she was truly out to get him.

Antsy and pissed, pissed and antsy – it was a bland cycle, one that did not suit him at all. It was seriously ridiculous that he had been so piqued over someone so insignificant, and he could not help but wonder why this inconsequential failure bothered him so.

He wondered quite a few things in fact: why did she gaze at him with such condescension? Why did she stray from convention? Why wouldn't she melt like putty in his hands and conform like all those other damned girls!? What could he possibly do to win over this exception to his fanbase once and for all?

He wanted those answers, and he wanted those answers_ yesterday_. However, there was a problem. He could not rely on his smarts or his powers to get his way this time. Acquiring the answers he sought would be impossible unless he approached her personally. Maybe then, he would determine the origin of her unresponsiveness and slake his burning curiosity. And, perhaps, Hanabusa would even feel satisfied enough to rid himself of the lingering disquiet that was pushing the limits of his endurance. He was _seriously_ tempted to seek her out.

But in doing so, he would be admitting that he was affected – admitting that she had gotten under his skin. Doing so would be lunacy! He wouldn't be caught dead chasing down some human girl that no one else seemed to notice.

So, what was there left for him to do? He could continue to augment his antagonism with random waves of anger until he finally resorted to ripping out the roots of his hair and screamed bloody murder…or he could ignore it – upend his natural curiosity, banish it from his mind, toss it out the proverbial window, and just…ignore her.

After all, there was a number of other quandaries to occupy his mind besides this pointless abnormality! Such as…why their pureblood dorm leader was so enamored with that air-headed prefect? See, so many better options!

Yes, he decided. Aidou Hanabusa had far more important things to worry about than _Wakaba Sayori_.


	2. Chapter 1: Build My Walls Up

First thing's first: I don't own Vampire Knight. D8

Right, so, remember when I used to update like...every other day? How long did that last? Not even a week? xD In my defense, I realize that the worst time of the year for me to write is during summer vacation. When I finally have an obscene amount of time to do whatever I want...my brain apparently chooses to shut down instead. How ironic.

**HEY, YOU THERE. YES, YOU:** So, for those of you who receive alerts for this story, as well as those of you who already read what I originally had (you know...back when I had two chapters? xD), I CHANGED IT. I mean...I more like...went backwards in the story and it _will_ eventually reach the point that I had left off on before...but, for now, I OBLITERATED those chapters in favor of adding this and stressing some other tidbits. And, go back to read the new prologue if you haven't already done so. Muahaha!

You might recognize this as a scene that was briefly, _briefly_ mentioned in the original version of Aidou's half of the prologue. But, I ripped that out and put it here! Yay, right 8D?

The true reason behind this chapter's existence is actually because while going over my dual prologue, my beta, MarginalMary, mentioned that she would have liked to see this scene written out as the first chapter. And I thought, "Wow, that would be so much to write! Okay, HERE WE GO."

I'm truly grateful for the time and effort she takes to help me improve on my writing and get these chapters perfect. And if someone on this site has not yet seen her work, I highly recommend that you do so :D

Okay. On with the story!

And since the chapter title is a line from a song, the lyrics are from Down by Something Corporate

* * *

Closing her eyes, Yuuki sighed softly, reveling in the light breeze flipping strands of her hair playfully and the tiny beads of sweat cooling her feverish brow. The teenage girl barely noticed the waves of students pouring forth from the archway behind her. She merely strolled farther out into the courtyard. Instead of her customary frazzled expression, a wistful smile curled about her lips.

Yuuki's mind wandered briefly, wondering if it was possible to hear some long-forgotten song carefully concealed in the melodious tittering of birds and in the soft rustling of wind-tossed leaves. Glancing at the nearly bare treetops, she thought it just might be possible if she listened close enough. Humming a nonsensical tune, Yuuki tilted her head back still further to watch wispy clouds as they drifted down a lazy path backlit by the setting sun.

After teetering in and out of focus, lulled to distraction by the toneless drone of lectures on DNA replication, appositives, and the angle measures of polygons, Yuuki was now blissfully free in the open air, and she could pretend the stale classroom, her prison fashioned of textbooks for walls and incomprehensible formulae for bars, was nothing more than a bad dream. At least, Yuuki could pretend for – she looked down at her watch – for about twelve more hours.

Taking the time to stretch her arms skyward, loosening each of her stiff, disused muscles, Yuuki relished the autumn splendor that was Cross Academy.

The shedding trees bent willingly as the breeze tussled their vibrant, multihued foliage. It all seemed so joyful. In the wake of dying leaves and then snow covered branches would come the promised blossoming season, bearing fruit and flowers all around the ancient grounds of the academy. Life was happening in cycles all around her.

Tamed, evergreen vines climbed the mason walls of the stone buildings, but they did not overpower the gothic aesthetics of the structures. In opposition, they were completely harmonious. Gardens tended by skillful hired hands – as well as the well-meaning but clumsy hands of the Chairman – were beds of hopeful seeds destined to be spring flowers, soon to open their petals to embrace the sun and bring forth a myriad of colors. The ubiquitous buzz of bees drifted in and out of hearing as they harvested the nectars of late blooming flauna. The grass danced in the oscillating wind. The trees swayed together and apart like lovers on a ballroom floor. The landscape was a courting waltz and a charming show, all in the spirit of the September equinox and the beginning of a new season.

Inhaling in deeply, Yuuki recognized the taste of pine and wet earth that hung in the air so subtlety, almost negligible as they ghosted on the fringes of other scents. The smell of nature permeated the grounds, punctuated by the domesticated shrubbery which grew almost everywhere. To Yuuki, it was a heavenly aroma that washed away her grueling week.

'_A perfect evening,'_ Yuuki thought, the pleasant aroma wafting through her nose.

But, a shrill scream tore across her regrettably short-lived moment of peace, and subsequently, her little moment of contentment died.

Jolted awake from her relaxed musings, Yuuki was cast, unbalanced, into prefect-guardian mode as she sprinted in the direction of the commotion out of instinct. Darting down the cobblestone path that diverged from the main building, it took her mere seconds to realize that the high-pitched scream originated down the left lane of the forked road. As more screams joined with the first, Yuuki quickened her pace to a harried run, ignoring her suddenly forlorn feet as she did so. What had happened this time?

'_Right. It's almost twilight_,' she realized mournfully, pulling out the silver whistle which was hidden down her shirtfront.

Blowing into the shrill instrument, Yuuki's muscles reflexively contracted in anticipation of another exhausting evening. Her sovereign duty, herding the jostling, pulling, fainting, and fawning Day Class girls into a sad imitation of order, was not likely to end any time soon. Which was more frustrating: keeping up with lessons, homework, and exams or running all night, fighting back fangirls who tried consistently to rent her limb from limb? Fortunately, Yuuki gave up on that quandary, deciding it was irrelevant long ago.

She dove into the heart of the raucous mayhem of black uniforms and bouncing hair to establish some semblance of decorum outside of the Moon Dorm gate. Reaching the imposing doorway with some difficulty, she attempted to clear a path for the Night Class.

"Stay back! Stay back, please!" Yuuki raised her voice, trying to overcome the earsplitting din of her fellows. But, as was the usual response to her never-ending pleas for calm, Yuuki was only ignored. Further, it seemed to the young prefect that their perpetual struggle to reach the lofty objects of their infatuation redoubled rather than abated.

Stretching her arms out in a futile effort to extend them farther than was physically possible, Yuuki channeled all her strength into forcing back the crowd. Internally, she prayed for perseverance and luck. She thought, gritting her teeth, '_Just one more day without being trampled alive, please._'

Feeling more drained than was usual, she absently wondered why her classmates seemed more difficult to handle today. Swarming like adoring moths to a resplendent flame, the girls of the Day Class continued to gather around the gate, heedless of Yuuki's increasing chagrin.

Heaving a muted groan, she reminded herself that this was her job as a prefect: to enforce school protocols and act as the eyes of the Chairman. More importantly, it was her duty as a guardian to keep the annoying moths from harm. The fire was more than a metaphorical danger; the fire, which attracted them so, would burn anyone who ventured too close.

While the work was irritating to say the least and life threatening to say the most, Yuuki knew that her obligation as guardian was a responsibility to the greater good. She shouldered such an arduous burden with pride and for a virtuous purpose. After all, was it not the Chairman's mission to lay a path for peaceful coexistence? Was that goal not the point of Cross Academy? A symbiotic future between vampires and humans was the reward promised for Yuuki's labors and commitment.

However, looking upon the scene impartially, her goal had never felt farther from reach nor her moths less deserving of her protection._ 'Ouch, someone just stumped my big toe.'_ She flinched but stood her ground firmly.

Yuuki allowed herself to escape mentally, choosing instead to reflect upon her first memories: a world painted in stark contrast and symbolic contradiction, a world painted in purest white and most sordid red, and her vampire savior whose gentle eyes were marred in bloody scarlet. Despite those lethal irises, those frightening red eyes, Kuran Kaname had carried her out of that unholy canvas and colored her world with kinder pigments. Kaname gave her a beautiful world, this world of changing seasons and vine-strewn walls; one Yuuki had not imagined possible in the beginning.

Happiness, laughter, and love – Yuuki knew their tints and hues acutely, now; she acknowledged their power in any form. She had felt a vampire's warm hands, offering unending compassion. So, Yuuki was confident that other vampires could be tenderhearted toward humans as well. This was a truth Yuuki believed in wholeheartedly, and she burned for everyone to see the other colors of the vampires, not just blood lusting red.

Yuuki was utterly resolute, standing steady behind Cross Academy and the future that it represented. Yuuki had sworn with a defiant heart that she would never shirk her responsibilities as prefect and guardian.

But, seriously, this was not what she had in mind. Yuuki wished desperately that her job could be easier.

"Today, they seem more out of control than usual…" Even without raising her voice above the crowd, her tone, simple but carefully concealing her derision, was unmistakable to Yuuki's ears. Perking up at the sight of Yori winding a roundabout path to the front, Yuuki felt a grin spread across her face.

"Yori-chan, you decided to come today?"

"Well…" Yori paused to glance down significantly, effectively bringing the prefect's attention to the small stack of books in her friend's arms, "you left class before I had the chance to ask you which notes you need me to photocopy for the next test. Which, need I remind you, is on Monday."

"Er…" Yuuki stalled. Her stomach dropped still lower just thinking about failing another test, and yet, she could not recall anything she had learned in the past week. Certainly that was an ominous omen, warning her of what lay ahead after the weekend?

The assembled Day Class girls attempted to take advantage of the prefect's distraction, harshly elbowing Yuuki in the ribs. Yori frowned and raised a brow at their presumption, irritated by her own indecision. Yori wavered briefly between further badgering her daft friend about the upcoming exam or assisting her hapless friend by hitting the evil mob with the books in her arms. But, this was such an inconvenient time; the established curfew was almost upon the Day Class, and Yori had only a limited amount of time before the library doors were closed to the diurnal students for the weekend. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, somewhat at a loss for what to do.

Yuuki would need the notes _today_ if she planned to spend the next two days catching up on her missed lessons, and the prefect was not known for the innate ability to multitask. Yori mused for a second. Time was of the essence, and Yori needed to copy the correct set of notes in the library with fitting celerity. The insatiable fangirls were distracting her already absentminded friend. How could she obtain a straight answer from Yuuki in such a hectic situation? Yori grimaced at fate's malevolent sense of humor.

"Where is Zero-kun?" Yori asked solicitously, craning her neck to scan the sea of black uniforms for a disapproving silver head. She hoped against hope that Zero's infamous glare could diffuse the chaos. The boy's absence was rather conspicuous as his voice, snapping, scathing, and otherwise petrifying fangirls, was usually hard to miss.

The battered prefect simply groaned in response to her own stupidity. So, _that'_s why the horde of fans was harder to control today. Yuuki had learned long ago that her foster brother was far less motivated than she was and by wholly different reasons than those which compelled her to work so hard, but this was ridiculous, almost unforgivable. Shaking her head, Yuuki unconsciously fingered the bandages around her neck which were becoming a disturbingly consistent accessory. Or, at least, they should have been disturbing, but Yuuki could only feel the resolve, one long since solidified in darkest corners, burning through her veins, through her body from the point where her fingertips touched her throat.

Yes, she knew that Zero had more than valid reasons to hate vampires, so she couldn't hope to do anything about his prejudices. But, he could at least show up on time. Yuuki grumbled to herself, irritated by her solitary workload. She hadn't even realized it was dumped on her alone until now. If Zero was irresponsible and inconsiderate, what did that make her?

"Don't tell me that you hadn't noticed…" Yori replied with a sympathetic but incredulous smile, responding intuitively to the expressions of anger, sadness, and self-depreciation on Yuuki's face. "Somehow, I find it hard to believe that even _you_ would be unable to recognize the difference in atmosphere. It's rather light when his oppressive glower is out of sight."

"Do you two always feel the need to talk behind my back?"

Yuuki had to restrain herself from running into a familiar chest as she spun around, looking for the familiar face which accompanied that aggrieved but resigned voice.

"Zero?" Yuuki stumbled backward, attempting to regain her footing.

"Find some other time to gossip!" The ill-tempered prefect simply jabbed a thumb to the dorm gates behind him, "A couple of girls just tried to scale the damn walls! Pay closer attention, you airhead."

But, his admonishment flew right over Yuuki's head as her cinnamon eyes narrowed, her agitation piquing, a tirade building, itching to spew forth from the tip of her tongue. "_Me? _What about _you_? Where have you been?! Slacking off on prefect duties? Honestly, Zero, you can't expect me to do all this work by myself! You could at least be on time and do your job, but no! And what is it with you, coming in all disheveled and grouchy looking? You're like the living dead, the way you drag your feet about."

Yuuki paused as she flicked his nose, pulling his head down by his collar to her height with ruthless intent, "Straighten up like a man and start pulling your weight around here, you zombie!"

Yori watched the exchange with light amusement as Zero rubbed his abused nose in disbelief and offense, but he did not dare to verbally respond to the huffing girl in front of him. Yori really thought that the pair had the whole "bickering siblings" stereotype pegged.

However, although observing Zero as he was soundly rebuked by his pint sized, nominal sister was fascinating, Yori had places to be, and the appearance of the wayward prefect facilitated Yori's much needed speed.

"And," cut in Yori, winking impishly at Yuuki who looked half-crestfallen half-confused by the interruption, "because you were late, your punishment will be to hold back this _lovely_ crowd of hormonal females by yourself while I talk with Yuuki-chan for a bit. She needs a break."

Running a tired hand through his hair, Zero surprised both girls by merely sighing in surrender. He nodded his head once in compliance.

Chewing the inside of her cheek in contemplation but for a moment, Yori puzzled over the ease with which the headstrong boy gave in. On most occasions, Zero would throw a little tantrum, shouting a contemptuous rebuttal. Only after he argued, proving some arcane point that only he truly understood, would he do whatever Yuuki needed him to do. But, Yori had no time to dissect the nuances and anomalies of the adopted siblings' relationship. Not now anyway, as she found herself being pulled along by Yuuki yanking insistently on her sleeve.

Being steered towards a clearing down the path leading from the Moon Dorms, Yori could faintly hear Zero grumble something like, "God help us, if all girls are as insane as those two…" That was mighty rich considering the insanity he was currently holding back by himself.

"Well, which set is it, Yuuki?" Yori cradled the bundle of textbooks and notes higher in one arm, trailing behind as Yuuki marched a meandering path through their classmates.

Yuuki shrugged, stopping at the tree-lined edge of the lawn, just outside of the sea of black uniforms. "Ah? Whatever, I suppose."

"Actually, that would be 'whichever,' but, really Yuuki, attempt to pay attention just this once…" corrected Yori half-heartedly as she placed her pile of schoolwork on the ground beneath a large oak tree. She picked out a select few papers to show Yuuki. Perhaps, Yori could arouse a few splintered memories of their lessons in her friend with the help of a highlighted outline. They had to begin somewhere…

Unfortunately, Yuuki had other interests outside of class work. The prefect tapped her chin thoughtfully, "They're a rowdy bunch, but not completely uncontrollable. At least, he shows up for patrols."

Again, it was not Yori's intention to discuss the finer points of crowd control, but she decided to let Yuuki's mind wander while Yori fished out the desired documents. If Yuuki realized half the confidential things she let slip when thinking aloud, Yori would not know half of what she had discovered about the Night Class.

It may have been unwise of her to assume, but Yori could not help but to speculate on occasions such as these. She knew well the reason why the two prefects kept the Day Class away from their nocturnal equivalents was not entirely to prevent the noisy herd from being a nuisance. Regardless of Yori's angle, some sort of protection and separation seemed necessary to ensure co-existence as well as to preserve the secret of the Night Class. Perhaps Yori was wrong, missing some larger picture, but she doubted that was the case.

She winced as Yuuki sniffed weakly before coughing violently, Yori's own throat itching sympathetically from the sickly sound.

"Are you all right?" asked Yori seriously, touching a hand to the other girl's forehead industriously. "No fever…" Still, Yori sounded unconvinced.

"Don't worry – I'm not sick," Yuuki brushed off the concerned hand. "Even if I was, no cold could possibly keep me down!" Yuuki sneezed.

Only nodding skeptically in response, Yori silently planned to find a bottle of cough medicine the moment she got back to their dorm. She had to bite her tongue to keep from to scolding Yuuki, ordering the girl to let her overstressed body rest – at least, for a day. But alas, that would be a futile conversation, leading down a tortured path to nowhere.

Yori had found out long ago that when the prefect's mind was decided, Yuuki proceeded stubbornly, utterly immovable. Yuuki ran head first into life, even at her own expense. That was just part of her charm.

Apparently, having an outlandishly positive outlook did that to people. And, Yori could only smile wistfully, wishing Yuuki was not so hard to take care of, and watch from the fringes, there just in time to bolster her friend when she went too far – like the time Yuuki tried to dam the masses with a sprained ankle. But more often, Yori produced boxes of tissues when Yuuki fought with her unruly brother or stubbed her toe in clumsy haste.

"Okay, do you remember Sensei mentioning – " Yori was annoyed as the intensified screams of her classmates interrupted her mid-sentence. Really, how was she supposed to hear herself _think_? How could anyone even organize a coherent thought in the midst of this deafening display of adolescent idiocy? Just the fact that her classmates could generate such absurd exclamations day after day was enough to discourage Yori from frequenting this area. The freakish fangirling was article one on Yori's list of reasons why the Night Class was disturbing. They did nothing more provocative than walk by, and the Day Class girls devolved to a state of ravenous hysteria.

Those damn gates had only _opened,_ and, already, an eruption of vocal cords threatened to rupture Yori's eardrums.

"Good evening, all!"

Yori resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the flirtatious voice. As if that benign greeting, any of the so-called idol's words, held any real value or meaning! Whether they were directed to a single individual or his entire audience, that blue-eyed horror obviously lived to exacerbate the situation. So, Yori had to ask: why did her classmates feel the need to swoon and buzz like intoxicated honeybees whenever he flapped his self-assured tongue?

"How are you all doing today?" Aidou smiled warmly in greeting.

"Fine!" answered the crowd in union as they clamored outside the dorm gates with wide-eyed delight. Yori suddenly felt ill. Perhaps, whatever malady from which Yuuki suffered was contagious.

Smirking to himself, Hanabusa had to confess: he was thoroughly amused by humans. Though most would have considered themselves objectified or exploited, victimized by the leers of hungry female eyes and ludicrous shrieks begging for attention, Hanabusa could not help but enjoy himself fully. He vaguely wondered if he would ever bore of the fawning crowds. He privately thought not.

Regardless of his actions, the humans simply loved him more. Their infatuation was so acute but so baseless, his interaction was rendered almost nonessential. They made it far too easy. His flirtation, his suggestive engagement of them, was merely a game for his personal pleasure. Really, they loved him no matter what he did; they were a game he could not possibly lose.

That, however, was not to say he found no delight in their reactions. If he tilted his head seemingly lost in thought, they sighed in wistful bliss. If he ran a lazy hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, they screamed with reckless abandon. If he threw a playful grin in someone's direction, they _all_ fainted. His efforts were negligible while the responses engendered were nearly violent. The system was positively laughable! Weak, impressionable beings, these humans were. Hanabusa consistently lost himself in merriment as he tested the limits of minimalism. How little could he do to provoke a response? Too bad that they did not realize this was just a meaningless game. Hanabusa dominated the humans with his magnetic charm and manipulated them for his own amusement.

Though pointless and short, his evening audience with the Day Class girls served as a wonderful diversion from the weightier musings which often occupied his mind. And, Hanabusa had to admit that it passed the time quite effectively.

"Would it be too much for you to restrain yourself?" Kain looked at his cousin pointedly before eying an agitated figure standing in the peripheral of his vision. He glanced over to the silver-haired guardian as the boy barked at the crowd of girls, terrifying them into order. "You seem to only create unnecessary work for the prefects."

Hanabusa arced an eloquent eyebrow at his companion, questioning his own sanity. Had those words actually come from Kain's lips? That statement was akin to a defense of the detestable guardians! Hanabusa narrowed is eyes imperceptibly, annoyed at the mere mention of the Cross children. '_Always the peacemaker_,' Hanabusa thought, unconsciously protecting Kain from his own ill regard.

Hanabusa was well aware of his cousin's habitual avoidance of confrontation in almost any form. Kain subjugated just about anything and everything potentially volatile. But really, as if troubling either of the prefects was something Hanabusa should take into account. Nevertheless, he humored his cousin.

"It's all in good and innocent fun," shrugged Hanabusa blithely.

"…Yes," Kain agreed slowly, dubiously, "except, to my prodigious knowledge of you, everything begins as innocent fun, then something will inevitably go awry. And, I say that as a heinous understatement."

"So, you are insinuating that even my purest of intents result in undesirable consequences? I applaud your attempt at subtlety, dear cousin, but I see to the truth of the matter," Hanabusa rolled his eyes with obvious sarcasm.

"The path to hell is often paved with good intentions," replied Kain softly. The taller of the two nobles discouraged further argument by facing away in the opposite direction. As was indicative of Hanabusa's attention span, if Kain pretended to ignore him, Hanabusa chose to turn his focus elsewhere. Out of eye contact meant out of mind.

Kain was tempted to remind his younger cousin of the countless instances when Hanabusa's disregard for boundaries ended in creative but ruthless punishments dealt by the intolerant authority figures in their lives – most commonly irate parents and a displeased pureblood. But what good did punishment or reprimand do if Hanabusa never learned from them? Hanabusa stubbornly refused to embrace caution.

No one doubted Kain's love nor his apparently limitless patience for his cousin. But, good lord, nobody should expect him to mind Hanabusa's every move every minute of everyday. He was not a babysitter, a guardian. Was Kain supposed to stand in as Hanabusa's tangible conscience? Surely, Hanabusa had one of his own, did he not? Didn't he?

Just as Kain had predicted, Hanabusa moved on to a new topic, their previous conversation and his cousin's warning completely forgotten. After all, his rash behavior was far from unusual and Kain's censor had been duly noted years ago. Truthfully, his cousin's disapproval, while slightly more meaningful than other's, just did not rank highly on Hanabusa's list of priorities. Classic Kain; classic Hanabusa.

Besides, Kain's unassuming nature rendered any possible dissent virtually void. To disagree with the redhead was nearly impossible because he never gave anyone the chance to argue seriously. Luckily for Hanabusa, Kain's passivity meant he rarely deemed any issue worthy of the effort, necessitating his input. Hanabusa had yet to decide if his cousin was far too intelligent to waste his morally superior high ground on pointless subjects or if he lacked the assertiveness to communicate all he desired in others, much less acquire it.

For a long time, Hanabusa had detected some internal turmoil simmering beneath his friend's unaffected demeanor, and therefore regarded his cousin's most endearing characteristic, his enigmatic introspection, as Kain's greatest flaw. It was all together contrary. Hanabusa, who reveled in disorder and studied chaos, engaged life with zeal and above the condemnation of consequence while his cousin often paid the price equally as Kain was implicitly roped into every one of Hanabusa's foolhardy adventures. It was sad in Hanabusa's eyes, which observed Kain go through the motions on a day-to-day basis. Hanabusa always noticed him, even if Kain was unaware of the depth of Hanabusa's scrutiny or of the love in his discerning blue eyes.

"Oh, they're coming this way…" Yuuki trailed off, once again diverted away from looking over the presented notes.

Yori sighed in frustration, prying the papers from her friend's static hands. Thus far, nothing had jogged a single, useful memory within Yuuki's porous mind. The prefect's mind was a sieve, allowing all relevant information to drain out leaving only a hazy residue. Yori shrugged it off with marked indulgence, deciding her impromptu review session was a lost cause. Getting her best friend to concentrate in the best of circumstances was difficult and thankless; when a certain dark-haired student by the name of Kuran Kaname was within sight, it was impossible. In fact, Yori was surprised Yuuki was able hold a conversation at all, be it a little absent and distracted, after the gates had opened.

"You know what? I'll just copy all of them. You go and help Zero-kun. I'm sure he will never forgive me if he was to be embarrassed by a breech in the ranks or, god forbid, a Night Class student criticizing his methods," allowed Yori with a knowing smile, subtly encouraging the other girl to go where she desired.

"Sorry," replied Yuuki, scratching her head sheepishly as she realized her own inattention. "Thanks, Yori-chan."

A placid smile, slightly crooked and promising future study sessions, was Yori's only reply before the prefect took off in the direction of Kaname.

"Hey, get your ass back in line or else I'll move it for you!" snapped Zero as he followed the group of Night Class students at a definitive distance down the pathway. The small band of girls, who had been brave enough to venture out and into the forefront of the throng, immediately scrambled back into place.

Hanabusa's eyes were drawn to the sudden movement out of habit. Trailing the line of the crowd down to the end of the walkway, he blinked in disbelief as he took in a familiar head of auburn hair. Recognizing the unresponsive girl who continued to refuse his advances, a blank, alien feeling overtook him. Now that he noticed her, how to proceed? Hanabusa mentally vacillated, wondering if it would be effective, though certainly unwise, to approach her or better to just ignore the opportunity presented. He was momentarily torn between his desire to dismiss her as a waste of space and his time and his desire to prove to himself and her that she was just like every other girl: weak and pliable under his influence. Hanabusa firmly rejected the notion that she could be unique or exceptional amongst her peers. And yet…by paying any undue amount of attention to her, by merely considering approaching her, Hanabusa acknowledged a flaw in his rejection. By going to extremes to engage her, Hanabusa confirmed the distinction he hoped to dispute.

As the ensemble of Night Class students drew nearer to Yori's position at the edge of the walkway, the surrounding girls' excitement was peaking at a state of near-hyperventilation. _"Typical!"_ huffed Yori, inwardly mortified and slightly embarrassed. The vampires saw these human girls and surely inferred that all humans must be the same; what a sad representation of her sex!

Paying her loud classmates no particular mind, she blocked out the obnoxious babble and focused on the studious ordering of her notes instead. Yori was almost certain at this point that Yuuki had slept throughout almost every class this week. Even when her friend had seemed physically awake, Yori was convinced that the girl's brain was making up for lost rest by mentally snoozing. At least, that assertion accounted for the dull, insipid looks Yuuki wore during lectures?

Preoccupied with the bundle of papers in her arms and her books on the ground, only a small shove, flimsy and incidental, from a late addition of the mass of fangirls was all it took to send Yori sprawled on ground. She lost her balance, stumbled over the pile of books at her feet, and fell prone on the cold cobblestones.

Her breath was knocked out of her lungs as an unintelligible grunt escaped her lips, somewhere between a cough and a moan. A shock of pain shot up Yori's spine as her back made forceful contact with the stony ground. Her beloved books, now in a state of disarray after being unintentionally kicked, lay about her supine form. One was lodged uncomfortably under her right knee while another jabbed her forearm and elbow. Her notes had flown out of her hand and into the air as she fell backwards. They rained down on her, painfully slow, like a sorry imitation of confetti. As if Yori needed more attention; vengeful notes and outlines, what had Yori ever done to deserve this, but, perhaps, to love them too much!

Hanabusa emerged from his frozen state of indecision and grinned deviously. As was per the usual, impulse, driven by the compulsion to capitalize on an opportunity too good to pass up, forced him to action. He knew this moment as his best chance to charm her. And, no one could possibly question his motives; helping the upended creature was only to be expected of a true gentleman. As for Hanabusa choosing to help _this_ specific girl, who, but maybe Kain, would even think to look beneath the surface? No one would. Just another instance of Idol-senpai being Idol-senpai – playing hero to his fallen "fan."

As was to be expected, fate simply smiled upon him. This occurrence was all together encouraging. Now, to invalidate the girl of her elevation! Hanabusa loped forward gracefully.

Neither he nor Yori noticed the silence that had descended from the moment she fell, nor the relative stillness of their peers since.

Shaking her head to dispel the wave of vertigo, Yori automatically turned her body over to get up on her hands and knees. Inwardly burning with humiliation, she began gathering her things back into a neat pile, one by one, even before her vision fully cleared. Yori refused to look up even as an unknown figure cast her into shadow. Yori made to blink away the instability that clouded her mind, believing that the shadow may be an illusion generated by hitting her head. Yori was left staring stupidly at a hand which held out one of her books to her.

Reaching out unsteadily to take the proffered object, Yori froze as she saw a white sleeve enter her line of vision. She swallowed the words of gratitude which died instantaneously on her tongue. Her eyes continued to rise warily, up the pristine Night Class uniform with a sense of foreboding churning in the pit of her stomach. As Yori's brown eyes came to rest on a pair of clear, blue ones, her only coherent thought registered sluggishly: she must have hit her head much harder than she had originally believed. Distress signals sounded in her abused brain, jarring and disconcerting, as Yori's hand unconsciously shied away from the boy's outstretched one. She winced, regarding his most charming smile with only apprehension.

"You know," Aidou said in a contemplative tone, a good-natured smile on his handsome face, "I have been told women do tend to fall for me, but I am honored that one such as yourself would do so in such an artful manner. Quite literal. Most impressive."

'_Um…What?_' Yori blinked forcefully, wishing him away. And then, she blinked again, wishing away his tastelessness lest it infect her as well. Was that supposed to be a pick-up line?

Yori felt her mouth contort in distaste as she reeled back physically from his comment. She found herself sort of kneeling, sort of sitting, with a derisive grimace plastered on her face. Her situation was already troublesome, her nerves frayed, and her patience thinning exponentially; everyone's attention was focused on her after falling, but for him to point it out with such an undignified remark! That was unwarranted and unprecedented, and Yori was fittingly offended by him. He spoke of her and to her as if Yori was just another of his fangirls, flattered by his condescension and entranced by his beauty. Surely, he had no idea to whom he was speaking. Who did this Aidou Hanabusa think he was to bandy such demeaning assumptions in her presence, in public, _ever_?

'_Oh, right,'_ amended Yori. _'He's a damned vampire which means that he has no respect for my kind and exists under the delusion that the world revolves around him.'_

Pursing her lips in agitation, Yori snatched her book out of his grasp and conscientiously ignored Aidou's open hand to help her up off the ground. Yori carefully rose under her own power and with much self-satisfaction.

As Yori smoothed out her wrinkled uniform with her free hand, she glared at him between loose tendrils of her chin-length, russet-colored hair. For once, she did not bother to hide any of the emotions coursing through her: discomfiture as the object of her classmates' attention, trepidation under the scrutinizing gazes of the Night Class, irritation at Aidou's flippant slight, but most of all, sheer and absolute contempt for his pompous arrogance.

"Falling" for _him_ – honestly! Yori fancied her black uniform as her testimonial, the single-minded manifestation of her mourning his utter lack of originality.

Modifying her natural inclination to flee any awkward or uncomfortable scene in which she was the main attraction, Yori slowly turned her back on Aidou's expectant gaze and simply walked away at an unfettered pace. One foot in front of the other, repeat. Yori focused solely on her appearance, channeling placid calm and impassive ease. She stymied any seething retort or scathing comment in favor of seeming supremely unperturbed. If she could pretend their encounter was unexceptional, an unmemorable meeting of two passersby, by refusing to reply then it was possible that she could remain an indiscernible blip on the social radar. Regardless of her inner rage, at this point Yori's main focus was self-preservation. She would very much prefer not to deal with the glares and jibes of jealous classmates just because she garnered the unwanted attention of the school idol. How irritating! Another thing to blame him for! Another fault.

Hanabusa could only stare in mild bewilderment as Yuuki's friend stalked off without a word of gratitude for his help or in response to his initiation of pleasant conversation. Hadn't he thrown in a compliment? Or, well, he had said something that was cleverly designed to sound like a compliment from her point of view. In reality, his pronouncement was more of a set of words cleverly strung together with a double meaning. "One such as yourself" – he mocked her dignified bearing and rejection, while attempting to disguise in vague terms that he was actually calling her a shrew. But it had _rung_ like praise, had it not?

Surely, she could not be so insecure that she was unable to accept a flattering remark? Now, she was just being impolite and unappreciative. Hanabusa could have frozen her stiff for her audacity, but restrained from doing so in view of the watchful Day Class and the ever-present Kaname-sama. Still, he could not help but to grumble inaudibly, complaining about the incomprehensible nerve of some people. In Hanabusa's experience, Wakaba Sayori accounted for the entire sum of_ some people._

"Aidou-kun, I hope you're not losing your golden touch with the ladies," Takuma patted the livid noble sympathetically. Hanabusa simply glowered in response, turning around to glare venomously at his classmate.

Holding his hands up in absolute surrender, Takuma backed away slowly, his actions contrasting greatly with his amiable smile. "Sorry, sorry!"

Hanabusa turned away, his hand twitching as ice laced his fingertips in blind fury. That was not an apology; Takuma was laughing at him, ridiculing him. And, Hanabusa did not have to check to know the rest of his classmates were doing the same. He was _so_ pleased he could be here to amuse them. Hanabusa muttered curses the rest of the way down the path. His dorm-mates afforded him a wide birth.

* * *

Love it? Hate it? Yes? No? Maybe so? Reviews = :D!


End file.
